Reassurance: The Signs Are Real

Do you ever feel like you're imagining things ... you want a sign or a message so badly that you concoct images or interpret people's words in a way that you want to see and hear?  Naturally, you want to feel comforted, to know your grandchild is at peace, to come closer to acceptance and peace yourself.  I know that I do.  I want to believe that signs have been given to me.

Then, from somewhere, comes yet another gift ... the gift of reassurance ... you know you're not crazy.  Indeed, you have received something extraordinary.

On June 13, I blogged about the cardinals who come to visit on days or at times of remembrance.  Is it my imagination?  Do I not notice the birds on other days because I'm not actively looking for them?

On the same evening of my blog entry, I had a grief coalition committee meeting.  The outgoing director was presented a token of appreciation from the group, an ongoing tradition, although most of us never see the gift until it is unwrapped.  This time, it was a statue of St. Francis.  It was one of those grey statues meant to be placed in an outdoor garden.  Something was unusual about this St. Francis, however.  It screamed at me from across the table.  The entire figure was grey with the exception of one small creature.  The bird in his hand was painted bright red. 

It was a cardinal.

This past Friday, I wrote about spending the day with my son's children.  It was the anniversary of the twins' and Kitty's baptisms ... as my daughter-in-law said, "the day that prepared Kitty for Heaven".   We placed pink, purple and white Gerbera daisies at Kitty's grave.  The color choice was unintentional, but J always wears pink and G is typically dressed in purple.  It's one way to tell the twins apart.  On Sunday morning, among other topics, my pastor spoke about becoming closer to Jesus through the sacraments of the Church.  He specifically used the words ... "baptism which prepares us for Heaven". 

I nearly jumped out of my seat.  The white IS for Kitty.

Even greater than the signs I receive are the reassurances that follow, the messages that allow me to fully accept these precious gifts ... that ensure my sanity. 

I once heard a retired Lutheran minister present a fascinating talk about receiving signs as gifts from God or from a higher power.  She said that first, you have to be open to them, then you must pray for them and when they arrive, you need to recognize them.

I am adding one more item to her to-do list: accept the reassurance that follows.  You won't miss it.  It might not scream across the table or echo words from your daughter-in-law, but you'll certainly know when it strikes.  It's amazing and comforting. 

Most awesome to me is knowing that it's real and I have not lost my mind.